On Monday that was so true. Three days off and I had totally lost my work mojo, it’s funny how a longer holiday brings me back to work feeling refreshed an ready to start again but a couple of days off is enough for me to relax but not be at all ready to go back to work. Anyway, it was a difficult day for my poor atrophied brain, made worse because I’m by myself in the team, this week.

I left work about 5:45pm, it was lovely and sunny but I was not in the best mood I’ve ever been in. By the time I got off the train it was raining. Over the last couple of days, the weather has been weird. When it rains, it is not the gentle drizzle that is usual for England in August. It’s been proper, full on downpour, this is the tail end of ex-hurricane Bertha, and it has not been nice.

My umbrella didn’t last five minutes before it was beyond repair and I had to walk home in the rain. It was like being in a cold shower. I was wet through, dripping water everywhere. When I got home and had to strip by the front door so as not to drip all over the carpet. I had to blow dry my hair and this morning my shoes were still damp. Wet still doesn’t seem like a strong enough word, drenched, drowned, completely and utterly soaked seems more like it.

The weird thing was that by the time I got home, I was much more cheerful. There’s a point when you’re caught in the weather when you can’t get any wetter and it can’t get any worse. It was 20 minutes in the rain, not the most pleasant 20 minutes but something about it made me smile. I hadn’t had a great day but if getting a bit, ok a lot wet, on the way home was the worse thing that happened to me and it absolutely was, then my day hadn’t been that bad.

The perspective police were back. So sometimes it takes a kick up the backside, sometimes it’s someone being nice, sometimes it’s a walk or yoga and sometimes it’s a thunderstorm…